Try
by hopelives
Summary: Logan and Veronica have some big decisions to make in the two weeks before his deployment. After 9 long years, can they make this time count? This story follows the canon set by the movie (includes movie spoilers) and focuses on Veronica's POV. I intend to tell the full story of those two weeks so I expect the story to run a little above 10 chapters in length. Please forgive me for
1. Chapter 1

Try

_Logan and Veronica have some big decisions to make in the two weeks before his deployment. After 9 long years, can they make this time count? This story follows the canon set by the movie (includes movie spoilers) and focuses on Veronica's POV. I intend to tell the full story of those two weeks so I expect the story to run a little above 10 chapters in length. Please forgive me for cheating a little on the days of the week (I don't know the exact timing in the movie). Obviously, I own none of these characters._

Chapter 1 - Monday

The flashing lights of a half dozen cop cars made her feel slightly dizzy as she sat in the open back of the ambulance. The paramedics had insisted on looking her over despite her repeated insistence that she wasn't hurt. So what if her hands shook as she sipped the water they'd handed her? She'd nearly died. Gia _had_ died. A little case of shock seemed a small price to say for escaping Cobb's wrath with her life.

"Veronica!" She turned when she heard her name called from across the crowded parking lot, just in time to see Logan push past a deputy who tried to restrain him from entering the taped off crime scene. She could see his desperation, his terror, in the quickness of his movements. It was hardly the first time she'd put him through this. She felt tears well in her eyes and quietly blinked them away. No need to let him know just how scared she'd been.

He was next to her in an instant, and had her wrapped up in his arms a moment later. She clung to him, relieved to finally share this burden with someone else. But even as she held on, she began mentally preparing herself for the lecture to come. It didn't take long.

"Veronica, what the hell happened? I thought we agreed you weren't going to rush into yet another dangerous situation without backup?" She could see the anger mixed with the fear in his eyes. "And yet – shocker – I arrive to find Cobb in handcuffs, someone – thankfully not you, it appears – being taken away in a body bag, and you sitting in the back of an ambulance."

"Gia," she said quietly. "It's Gia in the body bag. Cobb shot her. We were just standing there, and the next thing I know the window explodes and Gia's on the floor and..." Her voice broke before she could finish the sentence. He pulled her tight against his chest. She could sense his frustration was doing battle with his fear for her, but she wasn't yet sure which one would win.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes raking over her, looking for potential injuries.

"No. I'm fine," she replied quickly. She hoped he couldn't see her hands shaking in the dim light. When had it gotten dark?

He blew out a long breath. "Well that's something at least." He paused. "I'm sorry. About Gia, I mean. And about dragging you into all of this to begin with. I never should have-"

"Stop. Logan, I mean it. I'm a grown ass woman, capable of making my own decisions. I was the one who decided to come back here when you called, and I was the one that decided to walk into that apartment without backup. I knew what could happen." She let out a long breath. "I'm a big girl, remember? Capable of making my own decisions?"

"I know that," he muttered. "But somehow I always seem to drag you back into this shit."

"You didn't drag me into anything. You're not as irresistible as you seem to think." She smiled. "Despite what Wallace, and Mac, and my Dad seem to think, I am capable of seeing clearly even when you're involved." She feared he could hear the note of bitterness in her voice. It was hard to conceal when she was trying so hard to convince herself, as well as him, that they were wrong.

"Jesus, Veronica. I know we have a lot to figure out, but getting yourself killed is hardly the easiest way to do it. If you want some space, just say so."

He was trying desperately to inject some humor into a nightmarish situation to prevent this disagreement from escalating. She knew this pattern, had watched it play out a million times. It was her turn to either make a joke or fire an angry retort. Disengage or escalate. But with the distance of nine years between them, she wondered if it had to play out that way. She shrugged off the irritation, reminded herself he was just scared – she could barely imagine walking into that scene, seeing the body bag, and wondering if it was him – and decided to let it go.

"I don't – want space that is. I should have waited for you. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry." She felt the tears threatening to overflow again, but this time she didn't hold them back. She'd been holding everything inside for nearly a decade. Maybe, this time, she'd be better off letting go.

He pulled her close to him and held her as she cried. She could feel his shirt growing damp as the tears continued to roll down her face. She was embarrassed, but he didn't pull away. After a few minutes, when the tears finally began to slow, she was shocked to realize that she'd stopped shaking. Maybe there was something to this sharing thing after all.

He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. "Are you done here? With the sheriff's office?"

She nodded. She'd given her statement and had been cleared. "You should be hearing soon that they've dropped all the charges related to Carrie's death."

He laughed. "Somehow, in the midst of all of this, that thought hadn't even crossed my mind." He looked at her. "Feel like getting out of here? I know a great dance club. Or maybe a magic show? Dick knows this set of twins that can do amazing things with-"

She cut him off with a quick kiss even as she laughed. It felt good. "I think maybe sleep would be good. Or at least as close to sleep as I can get on the old mattress my dad calls a guest bed."

He smiled, and looked almost nervous for a moment. After a pause, he said "I think I can do a little better than an old mattress. Come back to my place?"

She felt a shiver run through her. His place. Sure, they'd spent last night together – and it had been great, incredible really how easily they'd fit back together after all this time – but somehow the decision to go back to his place felt like a crossroads. The difference between one night of forgetting, and choosing…well, something else. Something bigger and more important. The kind of something that could bring pain as easily as pleasure. She knew, and so did he, that it would never come easily for them.

But as she looked at him, standing there nervously tapping his fingers against his legs as he waited for her answer, she realized she'd already decided. What was it he'd said all those years ago? "No one writes songs about the ones that come easy." That seemed about right. And after all, she didn't need to figure out the rest of her life tonight. It had been a bad day. But maybe some good could come of it after all.

"You know," she said, "I'm pretty picky about where I sleep. What kind of amenities do you offer? A waffle iron for breakfast? A magic fingers mattress at the very least?"

He laughed. The moment of nerves had passed and they were them again. "Magic fingers, eh? You never complained about them before." She felt the blush heating up her cheeks as he continued. "I don't know about the waffle iron, but I bet we can come up with something to make breakfast memorable."

He smiled as he gently pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She hopped down from the back of the ambulance, thanking the paramedic as she went. Logan took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles as they began walking towards his car. He put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. His grip was just firm enough to remind her that he knew exactly what they'd almost lost today. She did, too. And maybe after a good night's rest, they'd be able to figure out how to hang onto it for a little bit longer.


	2. Chapter 2

_I can't believe the reaction I've gotten to this story. This is my first published piece of fan fiction and it means so much to have gotten this kind of response. Please, keep the reviews coming. I'm happy for the feedback. I have the full story outlined now, and I hope to have the next chapter up by the weekend. Sorry for the bumps in this one, but I don't believe that those two weeks would have been entirely smooth sailing. _

Try – Chapter 2

Tuesday

The light woke her. It flooded through the glass walls of the bedroom and cast a warm net over the bed. It confused her. She didn't remember her dad's guest room getting this much morning sun. She opened her eyes and looked around. She was momentarily startled as she tried to place the unfamiliar surroundings, the beach view and the sparse furnishings. But the confusion passed quickly as she remembered the day – and the night – before: Cobb, Gia, the chase, the shooting, its emotional aftermath, and finally falling exhausted into Logan's bed at an early hour.

A quick glance told her that Logan was no longer in bed next to her. But resting on the pillow, she saw a note with the letter "V" scrawled on top. She opened it.

_Gone in search of the memorable breakfast I promised (magic fingers optional). Coffee's already brewing in the kitchen. Back soon. – L_

She smiled and stretched out across the bed. She could get used to this view.

She picked up her cell phone to glance at the clock. Shit. She couldn't believe she'd slept past 10. The emotional toil of the past week had taken more out of her than she'd realized. Guiltily, she'd realized that she'd missed a dozen calls and several voicemails. She'd probably left a lot of people worried after last night's news coverage. Sure enough, there were voicemails from Wallace and Mac demanding to know if she was alright and offering their help. She texted both of them quickly to let them know she was fine and that she'd follow up with calls that afternoon. She'd also gotten a message from her father's doctor letting her know that Keith was up to a visit this afternoon. She was anxious to see him and glad to hear he was making that kind of progress. She wasn't looking forward to telling him what had happened yesterday – if Logan's reaction had been any indication, Keith wouldn't be thrilled about his daughter throwing herself into the line of danger – but she'd feel better once she could see his recovery for herself.

The bedroom door opened and she looked up.

"Someone requested room service?" Logan held up a takeout bag from the beachside café down the road and a mug full of steaming coffee. "I can offer bagels, beverages, and pillow fluffing at no extra charge." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Good morning sleepyhead."

"Good morning to you too. I can't believe I slept this long." She grabbed the coffee out of his hand and took a long drag of it. "God that tastes good."

"Yes, well, I've often been told that saving my life takes a lot out of a lady." He grimaced as he said it. "I'd probably be sleeping in the Neptune County Jail by now if it wasn't for you. And trust me, those aren't the type of hot blondes that I'm looking to wake up next to."

"Ahhh.' She smiled. "So you think I'm hot." She leaned up to kiss him and managed to spill a little coffee on both of them.

He smiled as he removed the mug from her hand. "Hot? Yes. Coordinated? Not so much."

She giggled as he put his arms around her and leaned her back onto the pillow. "Mock my skills if you must. We'll see if I can't change your mind." She propped herself onto her elbows and kissed him. The kiss quickly turned from a playful gesture to something more heated.

"Please Veronica," he said when they came up for air. "I do so love it when you try to prove me wrong." He laughed as he leaned back in.

By the time they returned to conversation, her coffee had turned cold. It was after 11 and she knew she needed to get up and showered so she could be at the hospital for visiting hours at noon.

"I have to head out for a while. They're finally letting me into see my dad," she said as she sipped.

"That's great. I'm glad he's doing better." He paused to chew his bagel. Thoughtfully, he looked up at her. "So I guess that means you're not going back to New York right away?"

She avoided his gaze. "Not yet. I'm still figuring out what I'm doing next."

"Veronica, we should talk about what's happening here," he said, and tilting her chin forced her to make eye contact with him once more. "Obviously, there's nothing I love more than waking up with you in my bed but-"

"I know, Logan. But I still need to figure a couple of things out, and I really need to get to the hospital to see my dad. Can we table this conversation until tonight?"

He breathed out, clearly frustrated but deciding whether it was worth forcing the subject. Finally, he smiled. "Sure. Tonight's great." He paused. "I'm just going to hang out here today and avoid the paparazzi. Do you want to take my car to go see your dad?"

"Oh boy, you're letting me take your sweet ride? This must be serious." She let out a laugh, trying to turn the moment into something lighter than they both knew it was. "Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it."

He smiled at her, leaned over and gave her a kiss. "Anything for you, my dear."

Keith was still asleep when Veronica finally made her way into his room. She curled up in the chair in the corner of the room and pretended to read the newspaper she'd bought on the way in. Who was she kidding? Her thoughts were running a minute. Logan, Piz, her dad, Weevil, Gia, New York…how the hell was she supposed to know what to do next?

She knew she had some big decisions to make. Piz had already decided the fate of their relationship when he'd called it off a few days ago, but she didn't know what that meant for where she wanted to go next. Sitting there, she realized just how little time she'd spent thinking about the end of a nine-month relationship. She hadn't put up much of a fight when he ended it. What did that say about her? What did it say that she'd almost immediately fallen right back into bed with Logan? She'd been so high on adrenaline and fear the last few days that she hadn't stopped to process any of it, but now the feelings of guilt started creeping in. She'd treated Piz like shit, and she knew it. Part of her wanted to call him and apologize, but what could she say that would make it better? As bad as she felt, she knew they were done. She'd ensured that the moment she'd asked Logan to stay. But she couldn't help feeling bad over just how little she regretted that decision.

"Veronica?" She heard a weak voice emerge from the hospital bed. She rushed over to his side.

"Dad! I'm so glad you're awake." She felt the tears in her eyes. "You scared me pretty good this time, Mars." She picked up his hand and squeezed it.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he responded. They sat there quietly for a few minutes, each of them processing the memory of what had happened.

"The doctor told me that Sacks didn't make it," he said quietly. "That he was still in the car when it got hit the second time. I don't really remember any of that. How did I get out?"

She looked at him. "Logan saw the accident happen when he was walking up to the house. He pulled you out of the car."

He looked at her. "You're telling me that I owe my life to Logan Echolls?"

She smiled. "I'm afraid so. And," she switched to her Marlon Brando impression, "some day, he may call upon you to do a service for him. But until that day-"

"Veronica, I believe that line ends with something about his daughter's wedding. I'd prefer that you never again bring it up in the context of young Mr. Echolls."

She looked away. That was definitely not a conversation she wanted to have. "The doctor says you're doing great. If you keep progressing, you should be out of here in a couple of weeks."

He grimaced. "A couple of weeks? What do they know? I say I'll be out of here sooner than that. And since I'm doing so well, we can start talking about when you're going back to New York."

"Dad, there's no chance in hell that I'm going back to New York before you're out of the hospital," she said, artfully ducking the larger question of whether she'd be going back to New York at all. No need to initiate that conversation before it was necessary.

"But Piz must be missing you. And now that you've wrapped up the case, I saw it on the news-" he started.

"You let me worry about Piz." She felt bad lying to him. But this was a white lie, she told herself. No need to get him worked up when he was still fragile. "I've got everything under control, so stop worrying. The only thing you need to concentrate on right now is getting better." She could tell the conversation had already taken a toll on him as his eyelids began steadily drifting downwards. "I love you, dad. I'll be back for visiting hours tomorrow and I'll tell you everything that's been going on."

"I love you too, Veronica," he said before drifting off.

She packed up her things and decided to make a quick stop at the office before heading back to Logan's. She might as well see how much she'd have on her plate keeping things afloat while she gave her dad time to recover.

Six hours later, she finally came up for air. Her dad's files were a mess. She could barely piece together what he'd been working on from scattered post-it notes, emails, and a few voicemail messages. She'd made a list of all the open cases she'd found records of and promised herself she'd get a start on them tomorrow. She checked her phone and found several text messages from Logan. She felt that twinge of guilt again and acknowledged that she'd been using the work to delay the conversation she'd promised. She sent him a quick text and let him know she was on her way.

He was standing at the stove when she walked back into the beach house. "Honey, I'm home," she called as she walked in.

"Why hello sweetums," he said as he leaned over and kissed her. "What, no flowers? I've been slaving away at this stove for hours."

"I've never pictured you as a flowers kind of gal. What are you cooking?" she asked as she opened the oven door to see what he'd just thrown in.

"I got bored. I made a lasagna from a recipe I found online," he answered. "I was worried that it would take too long, but as it turned out, I had lots of time before dinner."

She could hear the irritation in his voice and she felt hers rise with it. She didn't owe him an explanation. "What's your problem?" she asked.

"My problem?" he said, incredulity seeping out with every word. "I thought we were supposed to talk and you just want AWOL. No word, no nothing."

"I didn't realize I was supposed to be checking in," she snarled back.

"Checking in?" He laughed. "Really, Veronica? This again? I thought nine years would be enough for us to get over this bullshit. Clearly I was wrong."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she shot back.

He gave her a sad smile." I just thought maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time we could have an actual conversation about what's happening with us without you running away."

"I'm here, aren't I?" She practically spit the words at him. "What more do you want from me?"

"Hell if I know." He gave her a long look, and then he was moving. Before she knew what was happening, he had her pushed up onto the counter, his lips pressed against hers and his arms pulling her tightly to him. She started to push him away. "Logan, I-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He pulled back. "Just say the word."

She gave him a long look. Who was she kidding? "No." She said it as she pulled him to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He lifted her and carried her to the bedroom, never breaking contact as they went. By the time the door slammed shut, her shirt and her bra were on the floor and his pants were half unbuckled. They'd never been good at communication, but this part had always come easy, almost startlingly so. Half the time she felt like she hated him and wanted him at the same time. She rolled him over and straddled him. "Can we worry about communication tomorrow?" she asked.

She saw something flash in his eyes. "Sure. What's another day when you add it onto nine years?" He rolled her over onto her back.

"Logan, I-" She started to speak but he cut her off with a kiss. There'd be time for words tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I'm so glad that you all are enjoying the story! I *LOVE* the responses I've been getting, so please keep 'em coming. This chapter should be a little happier than the last one. As usual, I don't own the rights to any of these characters…but boy do I love them! **

Try – Chapter 3

Wednesday

She wakes up with light in her eyes again. Unlike yesterday, though, Logan is still asleep next to her. He lays rolled up on his side, facing away from her side of the bed. The foot between them might as well be a mile. She lays there a moment studying him. He's much trimmer than he was nine years ago, but also stronger. She can see the definition in his arms where they lay on top of the blankets. She's surprised to realize that she misses some of the softer lines that used to outline his face. Somehow, the stark changes to his physique remind her just how much time she's missed.

She quietly rolls out of bed, careful not to disturb his sleep. She's not ready to pick up last night's fight. In the cold light of morning, she feels too vulnerable, too exposed. She dresses quietly. As she tiptoes towards the door, she steals one more glance at him. Shit. Looking at him, sleeping so peacefully, she realizes that by sneaking out like this, she's becoming everything he accused her of last night. She sees his phone lying on the bedside table and hurriedly types in a note for him to find when he wakes up.

_I need some time to think. I promise I'll be back by 6 so we can figure things out. And I promise I won't disappear this time. –V_

She sets the phone down, walks out the door, and gently closes it behind her. She takes a few moments to freshen up in the bathroom and starts to head through the living room and out the door. She doesn't notice Dick sitting on the couch.

"Off so soon, Ronnie?" he mutters. "A little warning would be nice. Give me a chance to make sure the local liquor stores have everything Logan will need to barricade himself in his room when he discovers your renewed disappearing act."

"I'm not disappearing, Dick." She's not even sure she believes the words coming out of her mouth.

"Forgive me, vocab was never my star subject. I'm more a biology kind of guy." He grins at his own joke, then grimaces. "But even I know what it means when a girl sneaks out the door without bothering to say goodbye."

"Fuck you, Dick. You have no idea what's happening between me and Logan." She's angry now, angry at Dick for being right, angry at herself for not being able to stop herself even though she knows she'll regret it.

"No, fuck you Veronica. You're not the one who has to pick up the pieces. You weren't here after you bailed for the FBI or Stanford or wherever the hell you ended up. He fell apart. Totally obliterated. It took him a year to get his shit back together. So excuse me for wanting to skip this sequel. I already know how it ends." He gets up and walks back into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

She stands there, stunned. She'd never talked to anyone about what happened with Logan after she'd left. She'd walked out of Neptune and never looked back. To hear now, all these years later, that Logan had hit that kind of low – she hadn't thought she could feel shittier about herself, but she'd been wrong. Somehow, Dick Casablancas of all people could call her on all the things that she'd been afraid to say out loud, all her deep seated insecurities about commitment and Logan and herself. She had some thinking to do.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

She found some clever ways of avoiding the big issues for a few hours. She took a cab over to her dad's house and picked up his car. She called Wallace and Mac and reassured them that she was, in fact, doing fine, and yes of course she'd let them know when she was planning to head back to New York. She made plans to see them both later in the week.

She headed over to the hospital at lunchtime to spend some time with her Dad. He was more alert today. He had enough energy to talk about what had happened with Gia and Cobb, and to review some of his current cases with her. She'd been right about most of what she'd pieced together the previous day, but their conversation gave her some idea of what she needed to focus on until her dad got out of the hospital. Not that he was at all pleased to discover that was her intention.

"Honey, I don't need you to worry about my cases. My clients will wait until I get out of here," he huffed, frustrated at her stubbornness.

"Let's face the facts, old man," she replied calmly. "You're going to be in here for a couple of weeks. And unless you finally managed to win the mega millions and forgot to tell your favorite daughter, someone's gotta keep the big bucks rolling in the meantime."

"You're my only daughter," he responded.

"Exactly. You're stuck with me. So you might as well settle in and get used to it." She softened her voice. "Seriously dad. You took care of me for decades. Please let me do this for you."

Finally, he relented. "Fine. As long as you promise to stick to the cheating husbands and thieving household help. I mean it Veronica. I want you to stay away from the sheriff's office and all things related to the PCHers."

"I promise I will devote my desperately sore skills to catching every cheating husband within the 09er zip code. They won't even know what hit 'em," she laughed. "Now get some sleep. I'm planning on beating you repeatedly in gin rummy tomorrow, so you better get some rest."

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I love you Dad."

"I love you too Veronica," he responded. "God help me."

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

She decided that following up with the sheriff on her dad's hit-and-run wasn't technically breaking her word. So on her way to Mars Investigations, she swung by the sheriff's office to demand a few answers about the status of the case.

When she walked through the familiar doors, a pang of sadness surprised her. Deputy Sacks had so often been the one that had had to fend off her inquiries. Sure, he'd often seemed incompetent, but he'd always lacked the streak of cruelty that clearly ran through the Lamb family bloodlines. He hadn't deserved what he'd gotten, and she'd be damned if she let the perpetrators get away with killing him and so nearly killing her father.

She rang the bell on the counter. "Sheriff Lamb, please!"

A deputy approached her. She recognized him from the taser incident she'd witnessed her first night back in Neptune. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes. My name is Veronica Mars. I'd like some answers from the sheriff in regards to the hit-and-run that nearly killed my father."

He looked her up and down, his glance lingering on her breasts. Gross. This guy clearly fit in here at the sheriff's office. "I'm sorry, ma'am, the sheriff isn't in right now. But I'll be happy to ask him to give you a call when he gets back."

"And when do you expect that to be?" she asked.

"Not sure. He's out on some very important _official_ business," he responded.

"The dog park needed a pooper scooper again? Man, I swear, those critters just don't understand the meaning of law and order."

She could tell he wasn't amused. A vein in his forehead began to throb in irritation and she could see him clench his fists around the side of the desk.

"Look, whoever you are, the sheriff will get here when he gets here. I'll tell him to call you. Leave your number on this message pad." He nearly threw it at her. She jotted down her name and number, fully aware that she'd never be hearing from the Sheriff. With one last look at him, she turned and walked out of the office. They'd be hearing from her again soon.

She spent the rest of the afternoon calling the clients her dad had told her to focus on. Nothing seemed too pressing, so when 5:30pm rolled around, she did what she'd promised and headed back to Logan's.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

As she walked up the steps to the beach house, Veronica was shocked to realize she was nervous. She knew that the next several hours might well determine the future of her relationship with Logan – if there _was_ any future – and she was scared that the impulses that had driven them apart before would do the same damage once more.

He was sitting on the couch playing video games when she walked in. He looked up at her, set down the controller, and switched off the screen. "I wasn't sure you'd come back," he said quietly.

"I told you I would," she said. He didn't say anything, just nodded and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry I ran out this morning. I was—well, I was scared. Somehow, I'm totally comfortable rushing into apartments with gun-wielding murderers, but I'm completely incapable of having a conversation about my feelings."

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I could have told you that."

She smiled. "So…how was your day? Hit up any hot clubs? Meet any bangin' beach bunnies?" She knew even as the words came out of her mouth that her attempts at humor wouldn't get her very far.

"No beach bunnies. I did get a call from my CO though – my commanding officer." He paused. "Now that they've cleared me of that whole murder thing – thanks, again, for that – it turns out the military wants me again. They're giving me enough time to bury Carrie and get my life in order, and then I'm outta here."

She froze. She'd known on some theoretical level what Logan's naval career required. But she'd never stopped to think about what it could mean in practical terms. "Outta here? You're leaving?" she whispered.

"I'm up for my next deployment. 6 months overseas."

"6 months," she repeated, barely able to comprehend the words. "When do you leave?"

"I ship out a week from Sunday," he said quietly. He paused. "Sorry, I didn't mean to drop this on you like this. But, hey, you'll probably be back in New York by the time I go." He ran his hand through his hair. She'd seen him do that a million times when under a lot of stress.

"What?" Now she was genuinely confused. "Why would you think that?"

He frowned. "Because that's where your life is – your law degree, your job." He took a long breath. "Piz. As much as I've enjoyed this little bubble we've been inhabiting the last few days, I assume you'll have to get back to your life at some point. "

"Piz," she repeated. She was shocked. Was it possible that with all the things running through her brain – her frustration with her life, her indecision about her future, her guilt over the breakup with Piz – that she hadn't clued Logan in on any of it? Now that she was finally stopping to think about it, she realized just how little she'd actually shared.

"Logan, Piz and I are done. We broke up the day of my dad's accident. I guess with everything that happened – I thought I'd told you. I'm sorry."

"You broke up?" He blew out a long breath. "Way to hold your cards close to your chest, Veronica. Now don't get me wrong, I've been comfortable playing the role of "other man" before, but it felt a little shittier this time. Good to know I've been cleared of that crime, at least." He looked up at her. "What happened?"

"I was supposed to be back in New York on Friday. His parents were coming to town to meet me." She avoided his eyes. "When he called and realized I hadn't gotten on the plane—well, let's just say he wasn't super happy. I asked him to understand why I'd needed to stay, and he pointed out that I'd chosen to stay. Instead of choosing to keep my promise to him." She avoided Logan's eyes. "When I tried to explain, I realized there was nothing I could say. He was right." She looked up. "There's some part of me that feels like I should have tried to fight it, to fight for him. But if I'm being really honest with myself, I knew it wasn't going to work."

"Why not?" he asked gently.

She realized this was the moment, the big crossroads. She could either decide to lay her cards on the table, to be honest and make herself vulnerable to him and all the pain that could entail. Or she could decide to bluff, play it cool and make up some excuse. She made her decision and hoped for once she got it right. "Honestly? Because I knew the moment I saw you standing in the airport in that ridiculous white uniform that I'd never feel for him what I still feel for you. Jesus, Logan. It's been nine years. We haven't spoken a word in nine fucking years. And you look at me one time and everything else falls away."

She finally dared to look up. His eyes were trained on her. In one quick movement, he was up from the couch and had his arms around her. "Thank you for telling me that." He pulled back just long enough to look down at her. "I didn't expect this when I called you. I need you to know that. It wasn't my intention to get you all mixed up in my fucked up life. But now that you're here, I'll be damned if I'll let you go." He kissed her, hard, until both of them were out of breath. Finally, she pulled back.

"Logan, what are we going to do? We both know how supremely talented we are at messing this up."

He smiled. "I'd like to think that we've both done a little growing up and that maybe that will give us the perspective we need to _not_ screw it up this time. For starters, we'd never have had this conversation nine years ago."

"I suppose that's something," she said. "But six months? And then what?"

"What, you're telling me you don't fancy a life as a military wife?" She grimaced at him. He ran a finger across her cheek and continued. "I'm kidding. Obviously. You're about the least likely person I know to become Holly Homemaker. But the military's not all bad news. I'm not tied to Neptune, you know. And that means you're not tied here either. You can go back to New York, to your fancy law job, and we can figure out the rest of it when I get back. It's not like I have family keeping me here. I always assumed that one day I'd have to kick Dick's ass out of the nest."

She hadn't thought that far ahead, but she realized he was right. His job – as inconvenient and miserable as she suspected the next 6 months would be – gave them some flexibility to figure things out. She didn't have to decide to stay in Neptune or go back to New York based on her relationship with Logan. It lifted a weight off her shoulders—and added a new one when she realized that she still had to make that impossible decision. At least she didn't have to figure that out tonight.

"OK," she said. "OK. So what do we do now?"

"Well, I've got 10 more days till I ship out. I figure that's plenty of time for us to get to know each other again, decide if we still like each other. Nine years _is_ a long time, and we're both different people than we were back then. We've lived separate lives, loved other people." He looked at her. "I'd very much enjoy the opportunity to make your acquaintance, Ms. Mars, if you'd let me."

"Well, you're in luck, Mr. Echolls. I've been told I'm a cheap date." He laughed. "I don't usually put out on the first date, though." She gave him a wicked smile. "But I suppose I could make an exception for a man in uniform."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Do tell me more," he said as he leaned down and kissed her, gently this time. "I'm happy you came back," he said softly.

"Me too," and as she said it, she realized how much she meant it. Maybe this time really would be different.

**Author's Note: Please post reviews as they motivate me to keep writing! I'm hoping to have the next chapter up by the weekend.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: After so much momentum going into the reconciliation chapter, it was a bit harder to find the focus for this one. Your reviews are huge motivation, so PLEASE keep them coming. This is my first story, so I'm also happy to take any feedback about plot points that people don't think are working (or things you'd like to see). As always, I don't own any of these characters. **

Try – Chapter 4

Thursday

Something was tickling her neck. Still half asleep, Veronica tried shifting positions to see if it would stop. It did—only to resume again 10 seconds later. This time, she reached a hand up to try and swat whatever it was away. Instead, her hand got caught in the gentle grasp of another, and she could feel light kisses being placed along her knuckles. She opened her eyes. Logan was smiling down at her, his hair rumpled from sleep and his eyes shining with amusement.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said.

She groaned. "Too early. How can I keep up these good looks without my beauty rest?"

"And yet somehow I've managed all these years." He practically preened in front of her. She started to sit up and, realizing that she'd fallen asleep without her clothes, pulled the blankets up to her chest.

"You think you're so pretty," she said in a lowered voice.

"Nine out of ten surveyed agree—"

"Uh-huh. And that last girl?"

"She was just bitter that I was better looking than her. You can't win 'em all."

"Oh can't you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "According to the tabloids, you—"

"Now sweetums, you know better than to trust the tabloids." He smiled. "Though it's nice to know you've been checking up on me."

"That's not what I meant," she sputtered, furious at herself for revealing that she'd kept closer tabs on him than she'd prefer to admit. Sure, she'd managed to refrain from questioning Wallace or Mac, but who was she to ignore the occasional Google News headline? It was right there on her homescreen, after all.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. It was a familiar gesture, and one that made her let out a low chuckle. "OK, I'll admit it, you've aged surprisingly well. More like a $10 Chianti than the two-buck chuck I anticipated."

"Two buck chuck, huh?" he growled, a whisper of wounded pride in his voice. But before she could move, he had both arms around her waist and rolled her onto her back. "I didn't know they sold that by the magnum." She laughed, and leaned up to kiss him. It felt good to laugh together again. There hadn't been enough laughter over the last few weeks. Between Carrie's death, her father's accident, and Gia's shooting, they'd dealt with a lot of pain and sorrow. She was happy to see a smile back on his face.

"So are you gonna kiss me, or is this one of those "all talk and no action" kind of deals?" she teased.

"You want action, I'll show you action," he growled as he leaned down and began kissing her neck.

Forty-five minutes later, they were lying in bed, both exhausted and blissfully spaced out. She was curled up against him with her head on his chest, and he had an arm draped around her body keeping her close. As she listened to the steady beat of his heart, she realized she was feeling something she hadn't experienced in ages. She felt content. Even with all that was happening outside the walls of this bedroom – her father's recovery, corruption in the sheriff's department, her own unmade decisions about her future – in here, she was safe.

"Veronica, how am I supposed to sleep when I can hear your brain working a mile a minute?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"Who said anything about sleep?" She rolled over on top of him, planting kisses along his collarbone as she did. She was surprised to discover a small scar on his right shoulder. That hadn't been there nine years ago.

"What's this?" she asked, her curiosity momentarily interrupting her ardor.

"Nothing. Just a small incident during my last tour. Turns out airplanes are not actually toys." He grimaced at the memory, then opened his eyes and looked down at her. She was frowning. Until this moment, his career had just been a uniform and an inconvenient work schedule. But it was dawning on her that his upcoming six month deployment was likely to put him in harm's way. He'd be in danger, and there would be absolutely nothing she could do about it. "Hey, none of that," he said, pushing a stray hair behind her ear. "I promise you, most of what I do is incredibly safe. No other scars. If you don't believe me, feel free to investigate. I put my body entirely in your hands."

She smiled at him, but her heart was only half in it. It occurred to her that this must have been what he felt like all those times she knowingly took risks in the name of solving a case. She didn't like it one bit. But she knew that she'd have to adjust to living with the fear if they were going to make it through their upcoming separation. So she pushed her worries to the back of her mind, and concentrated on the fact that he was here, with her, now.

As she leaned in to kiss him again, her stomach growled. He laughed. "I knew you were insatiable, but that wasn't what I had in mind." She gave him a light punch in the stomach. Her stomach reminded her that, no matter what she wished for, they weren't living in a vacuum. The sun streaming into the room suggested it was already close to mid-day, and she needed to go see her father before he started getting antsy.

"We need to get up. I need food and I need to go see my Dad." As she walked to the bathroom, she turned around and gave him a saucy look over her shoulder. "But maybe I could interest you in washing my back?"

She laughed as he jumped out of bed, grabbed her waist, and threw her over his shoulder.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Her dad was grouchy when she arrived. They'd begun weaning him off some of the more serious pain meds, and she could tell his injuries were wearing on him. He'd never been good at sitting still, and the combination of forced bed-rest and fractured bones made for one irritable Keith Mars.

She tried engaging him in a game of gin, but his mind kept wandering off to other topics, complaining about the doctors and the lack of sleep he was getting in the hospital. Eventually, he got around to pursuing the conversation she'd been dreading. "Seriously, honey, you really don't need to take care of me. I'm capable of doing this on my own."

"Dad, I really don't mind," she said patiently.

"I don't understand how that boyfriend of yours is letting you stay out here, looking after your old man and putting yourself in harm's way. If I was Piz, I would have been on the first plane out here after the car crash." She sighed. She'd been putting off this talk, knowing that he'd be less than thrilled with the developments in her romantic life. _Time to man up, Mars._

"Dad, the reason Piz isn't here…we broke up. Before the crash. He doesn't actually know what happened. There didn't seem to be any point in telling him—"

He interrupted before she could get it all out. "What do you mean you broke up? He was just here, sleeping in your bedroom—which I'm still not happy about, by the way—a couple of days ago. Is this about Logan's case? Because I can see how he'd be frustrated by your refusal to give up on your ex-boyfriend, but-"

"Dad, it's done." She paused, and looked him in the eye. "He called the day of the accident and—when he realized I was still here, and not back in New York where I was supposed to be—he ended it."

At this news, he sat up. "He dumped you? My daughter? Clearly he wasn't as smart as you'd led me to believe." She smiled at this. Trust her dad to see all her flaws and still put her above all other women.

"He was right, Dad. We were done. He was just the first one to admit it."

He gave her a long look. "Tell me the truth, Veronica. Was this about Logan?"

"No." She let out a long breath. "Yes. Nothing happened between me and Logan while Piz and I were together." She didn't realize that phrasing had unintentionally let the cat out of the proverbial bag until after she'd said it. _Shit_.

"While you were still together? I see. And now?" She looked down. It was all the answer he needed. "Damn it, Veronica. I knew this would happen when you came back her. That boy is like quicksand. Sucks you in and drags you down every single time."

"It's not like that, Dad. We're both a lot different than we used to be."

"Ever heard the one about the definition of insanity, Veronica?"

"Ever heard the one about the dad who minds his own damn business?" They both looked away, unhappy with the judgments the other was clearly making in their head. She sighed. "Look, I knew you'd be unhappy about this. But it's my choice. I know it doesn't seem rational to you—hell, I'm not even sure I totally understand it—but being with him is the first time I've felt like myself in years." She paused. "I've spent the last nine years trying to be someone I'm not, dating guys who I only let see the shiny, happy Veronica. I don't know, maybe I could have kept it up for a while longer. But I'm not that girl, no matter how hard I tried to be. And let me tell you, I tried—and it was exhausting. I don't have to put on a show with Logan. And he doesn't have to put one on with me. And no matter what you think, that's worth a lot. So yeah, you disapprove—and so does Wallace, and Mac, and I'm sure anyone else we decide to tell—but I've made my choice. And I choose Logan."

He sat quietly for a moment, processing what she'd said. When he looked up, she saw the pain in his eyes. "Veronica, you know more than anything else, all I want is for you to be happy. I'm just so scared you're going to get dragged into that same dark place you went ten years ago."

"Dad, I—"

"No, let me finish. I know Logan's grown up a lot. If I met him for the first time today, maybe I'd even like him. Not that that makes him good enough for my daughter." He gave her a disgruntled smile. "But sometimes, when you've built up enough baggage, it can weigh you down no matter how hard you try to leave it behind. I love you, Veronica, and I just don't want to see you go through any more pain, especially if it's the sort of pain you could have avoided."

She leaned over and hugged him. "I know, dad. And I love you too, you big old meddler. But you know as well as I do, we can't live our lives trying to avoid pain. Even when we walk the straight and narrow, people leave—" she saw the pain in his eyes and knew that he understood she was talking about her mother—"and people die. The best we can do is try and be happy. And Logan makes me happy."

He gave her a long look, and then nodded. "OK. I've said my piece. If you're determined to date Logan, I know better than to try and stop you. But Veronica, please be careful."

She smiled at him. "I feel like I'm getting asked to make that promise a lot lately."

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

After her dad fell asleep, exhausted from their emotional conversation, she made her way down to Weevil's room to check on his status. His door was open. She recognized the same grouchy, cooped-up face from the man she'd just left down the hall.

"So, V, what brings you by this fine neighborhood? Stooping to ambulance chasing already?"

"If I was, Celeste Kane would sure make one fine pay-out." He laughed. She took that as a good sign. "I'm sorry I haven't been by the last couple days. It's been hectic since my dad's been in the hospital."

He nodded. "I heard about that. How's he doing?"

"Better," she said. "His injuries were pretty bad, so he'll be in here for a while, but the doctor says he's making good progress. Thanks for asking. How are you doing?"

"I'd be better if the cops weren't trying to pin this whole thing on me. I'm guessing that your dad's accident means you haven't had any time to work on my case?"

She sighed. "Weevil, I'm sorry. I promise that it will be top priority as soon as my dad is up on his feet again."

"It's fine, V. I understand. It's hardly his fault that some asshole tried to take him out."

"I'll tell you what." _Please forgive me, Dad._ "I'll do a little digging and see if I can find out anything about the status of the investigation."

He gave her a hard look. "I thought you were some fancy hotshot lawyer now. Now that Echolls is in the clear, isn't it time for you to stop slumming it here in Neptune?"

"Eh, you know me," she smiled. "I do some of my best work when I get my hands dirty. I'll let you know what I dig up."

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

After another frustrating call to the sheriff's office—they weren't any more forthcoming about Weevil's case than they had been about her dad's—she pinged Mac to see if she could get a tech assist.

"What's up, V?" Mac asked, her face smiling up from the FaceTime call.

"Oh you know, not much. Just calling to say hey, see how you're doing."

"Veronica, are you feeling alright?" Mac asked, then laughed. "Seriously, you never just call. What do you need?"

"Ahh, the blessings of old friends. No need for the small talk. Do you have any way to get access to the sheriff's department's records?"

"Of course not," Mac answered. "I can't believe you'd _call_ and ask such a thing. Maybe I could stop by tomorrow and we could talk about why you'd make such an illegal assumption."

Veronica smiled. She got the hint. This wasn't a conversation made for the telephone. "Perfect. You're the best, as always, Q."

"See you tomorrow, Bond."

Veronica hung up the phone, and started going through the messages on the line. She needed to carve out a few hours the next day to meet with some of her dad's less patient clients. He was out of commission for a few weeks, and someone needed to keep the lights on while he recovered. She lost track of time, and when the bell over the door pinged to indicate someone's arrival, she didn't even look up. "I'm sorry, we're closed for the day."

"And here I was hoping I could find someone to help me track down my girlfriend. If it helps, I brought payment in the form of fettuccine." She looked up at the sound of Logan's voice, and saw him holding up a take-out bag from Mama Leone's.

"Do you have a description of this girlfriend?" He couldn't miss the emphasis she put on the last word. _So I'm his girlfriend now, huh?_

He smiled. "Tiny. Blonde. Pesky habit of disappearing without a trace. You might be able to identify her based on some bitemarks I left—"

"OK, enough." She held up her hand to indicate he'd won this round. "I'm sorry I didn't call, I just lost track of time. What do I have to do to make you hand over the Italian?"

"Now there's an interesting question. Tell me, does your father have any cameras in here?" He approached her cautiously. "Because while I am very interested in this payment you mention, I'd rather not end up a dead man."

She laughed. "I make no guarantees. Perhaps you'll accept a rain check until we get home." She saw his eyes darken with emotion and she realized what she'd unintentionally implied when she'd used the word "home." Her heart skipped a beat – _not sure I'm ready for that conversation yet_ – so she walked over and put her arms around his neck. "I'll make it a blank check if you tell me you've got tiramisu in that bag." He laughed, and the moment of tension passed.

They sat down on either side of her desk. He unpacked the food while peppering her with questions about her afternoon. As they talked, she realized how good this felt: sitting down, just talking with him at the end of a long day, knowing instinctively that he'd understand all the nuances of her relationship with her father and why the conversation had been so hard for her to have. They'd talked about getting to know each other again, but somehow they'd seemed to slip into all the best things about their relationship as if no time had passed. Now if only they could avoid slipping into all the bad ones.

After she'd walked him through the details of her hospital visit and ongoing cases, she asked him about his day. He paused before he answered. "I spent some time on the phone with Carrie's family. Since I'm here, I offered to take care of the funeral arrangements. It's going to be next Thursday."

She looked down. After the easy comfort of the last twenty minutes, she suddenly felt awkward talking about Carrie with him. Carrie had been a huge part of his life, one that she knew she didn't fully understand. "That was nice of you. I'm sure it means a lot to them."

"Yeah, well, now that they're no longer publicly demanding my arrest, they're happy to have me plan the funeral." He let out a frustrated sigh. "They didn't know her, not really. It felt wrong to leave something this important to people who would plan something she'd hate."

She reached across the desk and took his hand. "That makes a lot of sense. It sounds like you're exactly the person she would have trusted to do this for her." She gave him a sad smile. "Logan, I know you loved her. You don't have to try and hide that from me. We were both with other people…before…and the fact that we're together now doesn't change how you felt about her."

He gave her a long look, then leaned over the desk to kiss her. "I'll be honest, I was a little nervous to talk about this with you. It's the sort of thing that would have been an issue when we were younger. But I shouldn't have been. I underestimated you, us, and I'm sorry."

She kissed him, and lightly nipped at his lower lip. "Well then don't go making a habit of it. Got it?"

He stood and saluted. "Yes, sir." She laughed.

"It's been a tough day. Let's get out of here. I believe I have a check to make good on."

**Author's Note: This next week is going to be pretty busy for me, but I'm hoping to update again by next weekend. Please review in the meantime!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Ugh! It's been so hard to stay motivated to keep writing. Your reviews really help, so let me know if you especially like (or hate!) anything that I think happened during those two weeks. The interest in this story seems to have dropped off, so let me know if you think it's worth it to keep writing. **

**As usual, I sadly own absolutely no right to any of these characters, but I do enjoy taking them out for a spin!**

Try – Chapter 5

Friday

The buzzing of the alarm tore her from a good dream. She hated that feeling, that no matter how good the day was it couldn't quite live up to the warm feeling you started with. She hit the snooze button and rolled back over to the center of the bed where another warm body was taking up a significant portion of both the mattress and the blankets. As she processed Logan's presence, she could feel the corners of her lips turn up. _I take that back. Maybe today will outperform my dreams after all. _

She hesitated a moment, deciding whether to wake him or let him get a few more hours of much-needed sleep. She opted for the latter. But as she carefully began to slip out of bed, she felt an arm drape around her waist and impede her movement.

"Nope," he mumbled, eyes still closed. "I like you better where you are."

"I didn't know you were awake," she whispered. "I'm sorry my alarm woke you. I've just got to get an early start on some case work at my dad's office."

"Hmph." He used his arm to pull her closer, and she laid her head on his shoulder. "You know what they say about all work and no play…"

"It keeps the rent paid?"

"It makes this bed very lonely." He smiled at her as he opened his eyes and pushed a hand through his short hair, a habit left over from his pre-Navy days when he'd worn it longer. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. "Good morning, bobcat."

She smiled and traced a path of kisses along his stubbly jawline. "Good morning yourself." His grin faded to a soft smile as a far-off look invaded his eyes. "What? Where did you go?"

"I was just thinking that I want to remember you exactly like this when I'm floating on some far-off ocean for six months. Warm, soft, and still too sleepy to do anything that makes me crazy."

She grimaced and tried to pull away. She didn't need the reminder of his fears of her work or his upcoming deployment to start the day. _So much for improving on my dreams_. But he didn't let her go, instead rolling on top of her and offering a big grin.

"I kid, I kid. Well, not about the morning part, I do love that. But you know I enjoy many of the ways you find to make me crazy." He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she couldn't help but let a laugh escape. No need to confront the reality of his deployment just yet, not when they still had nine more days.

"I'm afraid those tactics may have to wait for later. I do really have to get going. I've got a lot to do before I meet Wallace for lunch, and then I made dinner plans with Mac to get some tech advice on an on-going case."

He groaned. "So you're saying I'm not going to see you today."

"Well, not during the day. But maybe I could work on making you crazy when I get back tonight?"

"Perhaps you could offer a sample of what this crazy might look like? You know I like to plan ahead."

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. This time, it wasn't quick, and by the time she came up for air, both their hearts were racing and she felt slightly out of breath. He began to slip her camisole off her shoulder – _damnit, Veronica, focus – _but before things could go any further, she quickly jumped out of bed.

"You're killing me, Veronica," he groaned, and put his arm over his eyes.

"Sweet, sweet Logan. Trust me, when I decide to torture you, you'll know."

He moved his arm away from his eyes and leered up at her. "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep."

"You know me," she smiled over her shoulder as she walked towards the bathroom. "I always keep my promises."

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

She had a productive morning in the office, so much so that she didn't even feel guilty for taking a long break to meet Wallace during his lunch period at school. As she walked from her car to the patio area, she couldn't help but notice how strange it felt to be back on the campus of Neptune High. She could almost feel her defense mechanisms going on high alert as she braced for insults from every angle. Even knowing intellectually that she was unlikely to run into any of her former classmates, her eyes acted almost instinctively as they scanned the horizon for any sign of the Madison Sinclairs of the world.

"Hey, Veronica, over here!" She could see Wallace waving her over. _Get a grip, Mars. You're not 18 anymore, and no one's likely to tag your car during lunch hour._

Wallace rose and gave her a quick lunch when she reached the table. She sat down the bag of Mexican take-out she'd picked up from the local taqueria on her way in. "OK, Fennel, I know I've made you wait a week to give me a piece of your mind, so let me have it."

He laughed. "You know, Veronica, not everybody's out to get you."

"The jury's still out on that one."

He smiled. "You know I only yell out of love. How's your Dad doing?"

"His recovery's going well. The doctor says he's ahead of schedule, and he should be out in a couple of weeks. I'm going to hang around at least long enough to keep things running until he's back on his feet."

Wallace raised his eyebrows. "At least? What's the at least?"

She looked down. "Let's just say my travel plans are…in limbo."

"Veronica, what the hell does that mean?" He gave her a hard look. "Your job is back in New York. Your life is back in New York."

"What life?" She smiled. "You know me, I never get too attached to any one place. I'm a love 'em and leave 'em kind of girl."

"Veronica, be serious. Just this once."

"Jeez, Fennel, take it easy. Trust me, I'm giving this a lot of thought. I know I spent all that time in law school, and I got all those corporate job interviews, but the longer I'm here, the more impossible it seems to go back. As much of a hellhole as Neptune is, the last few weeks have reminded me that it's _my_ hellhole."

"Is this because of the breakup?" He asked the question in a quiet voice. "Because I know Piz is real torn up about the whole thing. Maybe if you talked to him—"

"You've been talking to Piz?" She hadn't stopped to consider this possibility. This lunch was beginning to take a direction she wasn't sure she was comfortable with.

"What did you expect, Veronica? He's my friend, and he's going through a hard time. Maybe you should be the one talking to him. Did you consider that? Did you even tell him about your dad's accident?"

She sighed. "No. I know, I know, I should call him. But it's hard because, because—because there's not really anything to say. He was right to break up with me. As awesome as I am—and believe me, we both know how awesome I am," she said with a grin, "and as much as I care about him, we're done and we both know it."

Wallace looked at her, and she knew what he was going to ask before he asked it. "This is about Echolls, isn't it? Damn, Veronica, that didn't take long."

Now she was a little pissed. "Logan isn't any of your damn business, Wallace. If I want your opinion on my love life, I'll ask." She glared at him from across the table. He may be her oldest friend, but she didn't feel any need to justify her relationship to him, especially not since he barely knew Logan anymore.

"That's cold, Mars. Real cold. You know I'm just worried about you. I've seen what a Logan-Veronica break up looks like. The Cold War had nothing on you. I'm not especially interested in living through another Mutually Assured Destruction kind of situation. When the bombs start going off, leave me out of it."

"Trust me, I will." They sat and stared at each other for a few moments. Veronica began gathering her things so she could exit the situation. As she stood up, she felt Wallace grab her hand.

"Wait. Come on, sit down. I don't want to fight with you."

"You put on a pretty good impression of someone who does, Rocky."

"Look, I'm sorry I got in your face about Logan. I'll back off. Under one condition. You need to call Piz. I don't want him reading about this in the tabloids. It wouldn't be fair."

Damn. She knew he was right. "Fine. I'll call him this afternoon." She held out her hand. "Truce." He smiled, and shook it, finishing with their traditional fist bump. "Thanks for caring, Wallace. I know I don't always show it, but I appreciate it."

"Anytime, VMars. Anytime."

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

She stopped by her dad's hospital room for a quick visit before heading into the office. She managed to duck the inevitable phone call for a few hours by focusing on her father's investigation into yet another cheating spouse. _Does anyone stay married in Neptune? The divorce rate must hover around 90% with all these husbands frequenting the Camelot Inn._

As the time of her dinner with Mac approached, the little voice in her head reminded her that she made a promise to Wallace, and she picked up her phone. The line rang several times and she wondered if she was going to get his voicemail. Just before she hung up, she heard his voice.

"Hello?" He sounded nervous.

"Hi, Piz. It's—"

"I know who it is, Veronica. My caller ID still works. Though it's nice to discover that phone lines from California still do, too." She sighed. All hope that he'd make this easy evaporated instantly.

"I'm sorry I haven't called. Things have been a little…crazy here."

"I saw the news story on the murder report. Looks like your mission was a success."

"Yeah, though that's not the only reason I'm still here. The night after we talked-"

"The night after we broke up?" Now he sounded pissed.

"Yeah. The night after we broke up, my dad was in a really bad car accident. He almost died."

Piz let out a long breath. "Shit, Veronica, I didn't know. I'm sorry. Is he going to be OK?"

"Yeah, he's going to be in the hospital for a couple of weeks, but the doctor says his recovery is going smoothly. I've been spending a lot of time with him, keeping him company." _That's true. But it's hardly all I've been doing._

"I'm glad he's doing better. Is there anything I can do to help?" Count on Piz to be the nice guy, the guy who offered to help after his girlfriend treated him like shit. She felt even worse.

"No, you know, we've got a bunch of people out here, so I'm doing ok. But I'm going to stay for a while longer, till he's back up on his feet. That's one of the reasons I called actually. I'm going to hire some movers to come in and pack up my stuff, ship some of it out here. I've been making good use of the two outfits I packed, but I could use a few other things."

There's a long pause on the line. "Right. Sure. Just let me know. Happy to let them in or whatever."

"Thanks." She paused. "I'm sorry, Piz. About everything. About—about not being able to be the girl you deserve."

"I didn't want some hypothetical girl, Veronica. I wanted you. Crazy, I know, but true."

"I'm sorry, Piz."

"Yeah, you said that. Look is that all? Because if so, this conversation isn't exactly the highlight of my day, so—"

"There's one other thing." She paused. Despite thinking about this conversation all afternoon, she still has no idea how to put it. "I feel like I owe you the truth, and I don't want you reading it in the tabloids, and—"

"Veronica, did you call to tell me that you're back together with Logan."

She felt like he knocked the wind right out of her. "Yes."

"Fine, message delivered. Have a nice night. Or you know what? Don't."

The line went dead. _Well that could have gone worse. Actually, no it really couldn't have. _

She leaned back in her dad's chair and let out a long groan. She'd managed to break the heart of a genuinely nice guy, one who'd never done anything to hurt her, one who she'd really deeply cared about. She felt like a total asshole.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

"Sorry, sorry I'm late." Veronica rushed into Mama Leone's and found Mac already waiting for her at their table. "I had to make an incredibly unpleasant phone call and it delayed me a little bit."

"Unpleasant, how?" Mac asked, genuinely curious.

"Wallace made me promise to call Piz. He didn't want him finding out about me and Logan in the tabloids. Needless to say, I enjoyed my short period of incarceration more."

Mac let out a long whistle. "Two questions. One: how did he take it, and two: what do you mean, you and Logan?"

Veronica walked her friend through the phone conversation and gave her the update on her romantic status. Mac wasn't any more thrilled with the news than Wallace had been, but she also seemed less surprised and less inclined to give Veronica a hard time. _One day, this will be normal, and everyone will just let us be. I think. I hope._

"So it sounds like you had a shitty day. As it turns out, I did too. Working for the man is less than it's cracked up to be. On that note, can I interest you in the bottle of red wine I just ordered?"

"Hit me." Veronica didn't drink very often—after growing up with her mother the boozehound, she didn't usually have much appetite for it—but this night was an exception. She was frustrated, a little pissed, and wanted very much to forget the day that had just gone by.

So they went to work on the first bottle as they talked about the sheriff. Mac had some interesting ideas for accessing the information on her father's case, and they made plans for Mac to swing by the office soon to put them into place. In no time, they were on the second bottle, and both women—neither of whom had much tolerance for alcohol—quickly became the life of the Mama Leone's party.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Logan stirred in bed when something bumped into the bedframe. "Shhhhhh," he heard someone slur.

"Veronica, why are you shushing yourself?"

"Because," she hiccupped, "you're sleeping."

He smiled. "You're drunk."

"Maybe just a little?"

"What time is it? How did you get home?"

"A little after 12. And we took a cab. Did you know the 09er has a whole row of them sitting outside," hiccup, "waiting for drunkees like me?"

He looked confused. "I thought you were having dinner with Mac? How did you end up at the 09er?"

She gave him a brilliant smile as she struggled to take off her shoes. "I did have dinner with Mac! And we drank some red wine! And then we both thought 'wouldn't it be great if we had a few more drinks?' But they didn't seem to want us to keep drinking at Mama Leone's—the waitress looked very perturbed with us, whatabitch—so we went to the 09er." She dove into bed, only halfway out of her clothes. "I'm sorry I'm so late. And so drunk. Don't be mad." She stuck out her lower hip and he couldn't help but laugh.

"How could I ever be mad when you're just so damn cute. But you never drink. What brought this on?"

"Wallace was mad at me. And then he made me call Piz. And Piz doesn't like me very much at all."

Realization dawned over Logan's face. "Why did he make you call Piz?"

"He said," hiccup, "that it wouldn't be fair for Piz to find out about you and me from the stupid paparazzi," hiccup," and that seemed right. So I called him and told him and he hates me and I'm a terrible person."

"You're not a terrible person, Veronica."

"Piz thinks I am. And I think maybe my dad. And Wallace. And—"

"Not me. I'd say you're even in my top three favorite people. So how could you be terrible?"

"Top three?" she yelled. "Who the hell is ahead of me?"

"Well, the top of the list is a little bit in flux. But you know, I've been friends with Dick for a really long time—"

"Dick Casablancas? I'm way better than him."

"—And you know how much I admire the work of Matthew McConaughey. He really has had an incredible year, first _Dallas Buyers Club_, then _Wolf of Wall Street_, and I mean, _True Detective, _it's been quite a comeback—"

"I'll show you a comeback." She swung her leg over his hip and straddled him. "I'll bet you $100 that by tomorrow morning, I'll be at the top of your list."

"Now that's money I'm happy to lose." He smiled as he put his hands on her hips. "Though I can't imagine you'll be at the top of your own list given how you're going to feel tomorrow morning."

"You think I can't handle my liquor?"

"I know you can't handle your liquor."

"So you're saying you don't want to get me drunk and take advantage of me?" She raised her arms and removed her shirt. It took longer than usual as she drunkenly struggled to get it over her head.

"I think you took are of the getting drunk part all on your own. But I think I can help you with the rest of it." She shrieked with laughter as he rolled her over. She knew she was going to pay for the booze in the morning; she might as well enjoy the results while she still could.


End file.
